


Distractions

by Puppyinabox, Pups_Side_Box (Puppyinabox)



Category: VenturianTale Characters (Web Series)
Genre: (It seriously effects a major cgaracter though), Addiction, Angst, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Like right out of the gate we've got suicidal thoughts, Minor Character Death, Multi, Rated explicit for violence, Swearing, The dead wife's name is mary, This is seriously dark be warned, Toast has a drug problem and his wife is dead, and suicide mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-26 08:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppyinabox/pseuds/Puppyinabox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppyinabox/pseuds/Pups_Side_Box
Summary: It had been years since he'd seen Ghost last.  But in Toasts state it didn't quite matter.  Wife dead, inheritance lost because of said marriage, and rent to the apartment due, distraction were needed at all costs.Even the costs of blood and dignity.(ugh this description sounds so edgy, i'll probably change it later when i get this ball rolling.  I'll probably also change the title.)(might add smut, idk tho.  it'll be complicated i think, and i never really plan fics out much before i start them.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not your average venturiantale fic.  
> Be warned.

(Toast POV)

It didn't even feel completely real, staring at her corpse in the open casket.  The doctors had done a pretty good job fixing her body after the crash.  Sewing her back together and dressing her up like some sick doll.  they'd added rouge to her cold dead face and tint to her blue lips.   
Mary.  
His Mary.  Lie dead in front of almost 200 people and only few truly mourned her.  
The rest sat with feigned looks of grief and pain, similarly painted and dressed up to view the funeral director's sick masterpiece.  So many people Johnny didn't even know there, and others that he knew had never liked her or him.  He knew what they whispered, they talked about the "brilliant and kind" Jonathan Matthew Toast-Windsor giving up his line to the throne to marry a Scottish commoner.  He'd remembered his father being wary of the wedding and Gavin being elated at Johnny losing his inheritance.  He hated living like that, with the media and governments of not only his own country but other nations watching him like vultures watching a dying animal.  Fear of his personal life starting wars, hiding behind closet doors and crowns and pretty painted faces.  Like a show pony, showed around as his country's poster boy.

Sometimes he even felt like a dying animal.  At that moment he felt that way the most than he ever had in his life.  When his time came to give his speech at the pulpit he found no words, it was not as if he did not want to let them know how he loved her and how much his soul had shattered.  But still no words left Jonathan's lips.  As if it all had been said and yet there was too much to say all at once.  Instead, he simply said, 

"The universe has lost a star today, and my world grows ever dimmer."  before stepping away from the podium.  He walked down the isle to go to his seat, but instead just kept walking until he was in his car outside the church.  He gave one forlorn look towards the gaggle of reporters outside before he put the key in the ignition.  He drove the rental car to the subway station where he bought a ticket back to Aberdeen.  It was still early in the morning, but nonetheless, he slept on the eight-hour train ride.

It was not a restful sleep,

It was a numb sleep, one that you fall into when nothing else can be find .  He was lucky he didn't miss his stop and woke up in time.  Still, in a haze, he stepped off the train and watched it pass, wondering who would really care if he just stepped over the yellow line.  He shook his head and walked back to his and Mary's apartment.  He stared at the floor as he walked towards the kitchen, avoiding looking at pictures of her on the walls.  Finding a bottle of vodka that they'd been saving for their anniversary, he contemplated putting in the effort to pour himself a glass but decided to just take the entire bottle off the shelf and drain it into his system. 

Already half way through the bottle he glanced through his contacts on his phone, finding an old number he barely even remembered that was simply labeled 'Johnny.'  No surname or work listed.  
He ignored the number and finished the bottle before passing out on the floor in front of his couch.


	2. Chapter 2

(Toast's POV)  
When Johnny woke up it was almost half past noon and his phone was exploding with incoming messages. He scrolled through,

"Father: John where are you your mother & I r worried sick about you."

'Right, of course, you are.' He thought as he continued,

"Gavin: Jonathan where the fuck are you, mum's crying. You can't just walk out like that."

"Yes, I fucking can Gavin, you bloody twat." Johnny texted back, then continued to delete texts from people he didn't recognize or simply didn't want to or have to deal with. Johnny took a look around himself.  
The bottle had broken, he had dropped it when he passed out, and he was surrounded by shards of glass. He lay back down with his cell just next to his head, glancing over at the screen whenever he received a notification. Gavin said something about being on his way and in two hours he heard a helicopter landing on the roof of his building and ten minutes after that a pound at the door.

"Jonathan I swear to God get out here! your have no fucking idea how much shit I'm in right now!" He heard Gavin shout from outside his apartment. Jonathan sighed and sat up, shouting back,

"how much shit you're in? yeah, hate to break it to you but I'm fucking knee deep in bullshit Gavin! All my god damn life Gavin, every fucking move I made was monitored. And Mary was my escape from that. you were always able to hide behind me asshole, you were allowed to be anything but a prodigy. no more! I'm done, Gavin. I'm fucking done."

there was a silence, then Gavin tried the door. It wasn't locked, though Johnny thought it was. Gavin stepped into the den and stood over Johnny, and shook his head.

"you've fallen from grace john."

"I never had any."

Gavin crouched and nudged Johnny's shoulder, urging him to get up. Johnny instead slapped his hand away and continued to lay on the floor, "you can't expect me to be ok." he said,

"and I don't expect you to be. But the press is voyeuristic and needs to be indulged." Gavin responded getting up and offering a hand out to Toast. "please."

Johnny shook his head, "I can't Gavin. I just can't." Johnny rolled onto his side and curled into a ball on the floor. He could feel a bit of the broken glass poke into his arm but ignored it.  
"Then I need to borrow a suit. Someone has to grieve to the masses over her death." Gavin sighed,  
It was terrible and familiar, dressing up as each other. They'd never gotten along completely, but they'd always be twins and they had loved to confuse their parents and the press. Now an old little tradition was being poisoned by political and populous necessity.  
Toast nodded and Gavin walked away to change.  
Toast felt pathetic laying there on the floor, waiting for his asshole brother to fix his mess, and cried. When Gavin came back he awkwardly patted Toast on the shoulder left.

After about an hour more Toast got up and turned the tv on, flipping through channels until he got to the international news. He watched Gavin, dressed up as him, cry and talk to reporters outside the palace. He'd covered up his birthmark with foundation and subtle eyeshadow under his eyes to make a fake look of emotional and physical exhaustion. Toast knew it could fool the press and woefully smiled a little before walking to check on himself in the mirror.

He was a mess.  
A worse mess than Gavin portrayed. Worse than Johnny had ever seen himself.

Worse than the mornings after sleepless nights worried about his bisexuality ruining his marriage, worse than when he'd gotten into a fight with some boy in the seventh grade and everyone he'd ever met was disappointed and surprised. But then again his mother had comforted him best she could after the fight, and after coming out to Mary she had been accepting of him. This was an end.  
No more Mary. No more mom.

Just empty feelings in his soul. He needed it to be filled, needed some kind of escape.

He needed a distraction.  
And fast.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading a lot of fic and Edgar Allen Poe and well, I find that often fics in the fandom focus on Ghost's mental health.  And yes that will be a factor in this fic but the focus is mostly on Toast.  The man lost his wife and does/deals drugs for fuck sake, he has some angst.
> 
> Btw this is not completely canon compliant.  I am writing this in basically an AU where the universe actually makes sense, aside from macaroni being a narcotic and toast's name being toast.


End file.
